


Lord of May

by traumschwinge



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Robin Hood, Antisemitism, Childhood Friends, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:16:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumschwinge/pseuds/traumschwinge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years and years, Erik has been imprisoned in a tiny room up the tower of a castle. Unwilling to pay his debt, Prince Sebastian, heir to the throne, had had him abducted and locked away, just so Erik's parents would stop protesting. Now, all Erik has is the company of the gruff Sheriff and the memory of a friend from the past...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord of May

**Author's Note:**

  * For [issabella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I was commissioned for (part of) this work.

The earliest memory Erik had was of him and his father visiting a castle. All his early memories were of that castle. Back then, he hadn’t known what his father had been doing, what the owner of a castle had needed them for. But Erik vividly remembered a boy living there. He’d been a year or two younger than Erik himself, still they had always played together when Erik’s father had come for work. It must have been good fun every time, Erik remembered looking forward to those visits. He remembered other things, too. The boy’s bright blue eyes, chubby face and red lips, making him look so much like an angel that he could charm anyone into giving them treats. The day he’d fallen out an tree he and the boy had been climbing for sports. The game the boy had taught him, where they would take small stones from a pile one to three at a time until the one taking the last stone lost.

What Erik couldn’t remember, though, was the boy’s name.

Lately, that was, ever since he was stuck in these tiny rooms in a castle he didn’t even know, he had been thinking of that boy again. It was like if he could just remember the boy’s name, he’d find a way out of his current predicament. 

Not that it was all bad, he was fed, clothed and sheltered from the elements. However, he couldn’t leave the rooms he’d been put in and aside from his keeper and the castle's servants, he never saw or talked to a person. It was grating, it always had been, ever since he’d been taken by Prince Sebastian’s people one day out of the blue.

Most of the days, Erik would give just about anything to go out, even just for a couple of hours. The only days when he didn’t mind being locked up where those stormy days when not even his minder bothered to leave the castle to do his actual work as the Sheriff. Then he at least had some company during the day.

The sheriff wasn’t a nice man, Erik didn’t think even a mother could consider him that. But he was fair and cared enough, even for his liege’s prisoners, that Erik found it hard to complain about him. He still did, of course, but it were small things, like not having enough to do during the day or disliking whatever dinner he’d been brought.

This day, Sheriff Logan hadn’t come back in time for dinner, which was rare enough for Erik to notice as he ate all by himself. He wasn’t back when the candle Erik stitched by had almost burnt down either. It took until just after Erik had turned in when he heard yelling and a banging of doors in the castle below before he could see a light in the Sheriff's window. It didn’t sound like the good Sheriff had had a pleasant day.

With a heavy sigh, Erik climbed back out of his bed and redid his hosen before he put his tunic back on. Experience told him that there was some mead to be had in exchange for an open ear to the Sheriff’s woes.

“And what do  _ you _ want?” Sheriff Logan groaned when Erik opened the door to his bedroom.

“Seeing if it’s the Prince’s death that has you in such a foul mood,” Erik smirked. He went over to the earthen bottle which the sheriff always kept filled with alcohol and poured some into two mugs.

Logan let out a barking laugh. “You’d wish.” He nodded when Erik handed him one of the mugs. “No, it’s that blasted Hood again. Had me running around the forest like a fool all day and still stole some trader’s purse or chest or whatever that liar kept his coin in. Told me three different sums that had been stolen while I interrogated him.” Logan harrumphed. “I hate the whole lot.”

“You could let me help you catch Hood.” Erik already knew the answer to that proposal before Logan started laughing at him. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried that.

“And who helps me leave the country after you managed to escape?” Logan asked. “And don’t give me that crap about you helping me. I like my job enough to drag your ass back here in that case.” Logan looked at Erik from the corner of his eyes. “I could just use you as bait. Hood sounds like he’s nice to the poor and desperate. That’s why no peasants want to help me with him.” He rolled his eyes. “Hood's bound to have a weak spot for a damsel in distress like you.”

Erik huffed. “Right, I’m being held captive by a bear. I’m in such distress.” He held the back of his hand against his forehead. “Help me, help, I need saving more than I need an assassin killing Prince Sebastian for me,” he lamented, feigning a faint. Logan laughed into his mug. “Or,” Erik said, clearing his throat. “I could just wait for Queen Emma to return from the Holy Land and appeal to her to kick his ass. Just if I don’t manage to kill the Prince myself first.”

“Right,” Logan nodded, but the glance he shot Erik was full of doubt and worry. He sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. “If you find a way to help and be used as bait without leaving this castle,” he sighed. He sounded resigned. “Then maybe I’ll consider allowing it.”

Erik took the last swig from his mug. “For that I’d need to know more about him. From your whining, all I know that he’s smart, curious and you like his red beard.” Erik shrugged when Logan was about to get his hackles up. “Don’t try to deny it. I know.”

Logan groaned. “Of course you do.” He put his mug down, sighed, closed his eyes for a moment. “Hey… Ready for some bad news? I wanted to wait until morning, but…” Again, a sigh. He was staring at the ceiling, not looking at Erik. “Prince Sebastian’s coming back soon. A fortnight.”

Erik felt like the room was spinning around him. “Two weeks?” He groaned. 

Suddenly, Logan was by his side, helped him sit down on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m going to be when he’s gone again.” The hand clinging to Logan’s sleeve was shaking. “How long is he going to stay?”

“Dunno yet. Too long at any rate.” Logan looked at the door. “Do you need help to get back to your room?”

Erik didn’t look up at Logan when he answered. “Like hell I do.” He didn’t let go of Logan’s sleeve for a long time. Logan didn’t make him, just waited for the candle lighting the room to burn down, before they went to lie down.

~*~

The next couple of days Erik spend around the kitchen and servants’ quarters, trying his best to find out what he could about Hood. It was the easiest way to keep himself busy during the day, to keep his mind off the prospect of Prince Sebastian returning soon and the sickening feeling that came with it. At night, he would needle Logan about the robber, calling Hood a vigilante and the like, in the faint hope that the good Sheriff would let some information slide when angered. Nothing much came out of it, however. Most nights, Erik went to bed frustrated and cranky.

What he learned were mostly stories somebody had heard from some acquaintance who had met Hood once. Sieving out useable information took more time than Erik would have liked, more time than he felt he had with the date of Prince Sebastian’s return looming on the horizon. Hood seemed to be fond of children, which was entirely unhelpful for Erik’s purposes, he apparently was able to read and ride, which Erik had known before and only cemented the Sheriff’s assumption that Hood had been a knight or monk or some kind of intelligent noble before he’d turned to robbing people. The only somewhat useful information he had was that Hood was apparently more than happy to join parties whenever he could and beside that rather curious, in more than one sense. One of the maids had told Erik that once, one of her father’s friends had been able to stop Hood from committing a robbery by teaching him a riddle he hadn’t heard before. He wasn’t sure how believable it was, but it was all Erik had to go on.

Logan laughed at him when he suggested they could try to attract Hood with riddles.

“But why not? Prince Sebastian sure expects you to throw a festival in his honour when he returns so why don’t we try to bait Hood with a couple of hard riddles and a prize?” Erik crossed his arms in front of his chest. “The promise of fat loot should be enough to draw him in anyway. You can’t arrest every purse cutter and pick pocket.”

“Watch me,” Logan huffed. Erik was sure he’d try, especially after that challenge. Logan let out a deep sigh. “Okay, if you have the riddles ready and I consider them hard enough, I’ll throw in a price of Hood’s fancy.”

Erik smiled over these first good news in days. “I already have something in mind…”

~*~

Half a candle had burned down in the time it took Erik to demonstrate his plan. Logan was glaring daggers at him, rather upset that something Erik had called a child’s riddle was still beyond him after countless tries. “You’re cheating,” was his verdict when he finally had enough. 

“No, I just know how to count.” Erik was smirking. “So, you’re convinced?”

Logan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I still call ancient Jewish witchcraft.” Under the table Erik kicked his shin, hard. “Ok, ok, fine, you win. I let you empty the pockets of overconfident idiots.”

Hiding his face and disappointment behind his cup of mead, Erik mumbled, “So you don’t think it’ll attract Hood?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, it definitely will. The question is, will he be recognizable.”

“So you’re not just gonna question everyone who beats me?” Erik smirked. 

Logan laughed. “Intelligence is not yet illegal. Give it time. Then I can finally throw you in the dungeon and have some bloody peace and quiet again.”

“You’d be bored at night without me,” Erik tested his luck, though the prospect of spending any time at all in the castle’s dungeon didn’t sit right with him.

The Sheriff shrugged. “Probably true.”

“So, you don’t think you’d recognize Hood?” Erik pulled a grimace. He hadn’t even thought of that. “I assumed you’d seen him enough times to know his face.”

Logan sighed, long and deep. “True, but if he shaved-” Mid word, he fell silent, sitting up a little straighter, listening for something. It took a while until Erik heard it, too, the sound of iron shoed hooves beating on the cobbles of the courtyard. Logan cursed, leaping to his feet and stuffing anything that could prove just how much time Erik spend in his room hastily in the chest of personal belongings at the end of his bed. “Back to your room,” he snarled at Erik. “Now! You’re not supposed to even be here!”

Frozen by the shock of realization just what the riders’ arrival by night meant, it took the snarl to startle Erik into motion. For another precious moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should help the clean-up. The Sheriff didn’t take too kindly to this, grabbing Erik by the arm and shoving him out of the room. “Back to the tower with you!”

Erik wasn’t sure how he’d gotten back into the drafty room that was supposed his sole prison without being seen and in this short amount of time to boot. He even had the time to calm his breath and mind a little, before the knock he’d been dreading all along came, followed by Prince Sebastian’s entrance a heartbeat later.

The Prince was still wearing his travelling clothes, his whole stance and attire proclaiming he’d just gotten off a horse he’d ridden for at least days, if not weeks. Still, he smiled brightly, all teeth, no real joy reaching his eyes, when he looked at Erik. As always, it made the fine hairs on the back of Erik’s neck stand on edge, his whole body begging him to run or fight or both at best. All he could do, though, was to remain as calm as possible, hiding his discomfort in the presence of the man who’d imprisoned him for nothing but personal gain, only so he wouldn’t have to pay off a large debt.

“Well, aren’t you going to welcome back your Prince Royal, when he so graciously pays you a visit, Erik?” the Prince chided when even after a long wait, Erik refused to open his mouth. He waited another handful of moments, before he went on, “Silence this time, Erik? Or is this finally some pay out of breaking you out of talking back at me? Afraid of me locking you in here all alone for another season, are you?”

It wasn’t like Sebastian was talking for any other reason than to hear his own voice, so Erik remained silent. He wouldn’t show the Prince any weakness this time. 

The silence did nothing to deter Prince Sebastian. “Didn’t you miss me?” he purred, stalking closer and undoing his travel hood at the same time.

Fighting his repulsion just to stay in place and not to run, Erik clenched his jaw, willing himself silent for the rest of the night. 

“I missed you a whole lot, you ungrateful brat,” Sebastian went on, his voice still dripping of honey. Erik wanted to hurl, but instead he closed his eyes as Sebastian touched his cheek. He tried to think of somebody else in the hope it would let him stand it. Fighting the Prince had never done him any good. All he had learned was to endure in the hope it wouldn’t get worse. “Don't I clothe you, feed you, keep you warm and safe?” Sebastian was close enough now to whisper into Erik’s ear. It made Erik shiver with repulse. “And yet whenever I expect any gratitude from you, you deny me!” All of a sudden, the Prince raised his voice. “On your knees before your soon to be King!”

Erik’s body complied, not even needing the hands on his shoulders pushing him down. The pain from his knees crashing onto the floor was welcome, it helped forget what was about to come. The only hope left was that the travels had left Prince Sebastian tired enough so he would be satisfied easily. In the past, he rarely had been.

~*~

For the days until the festival, Erik remained locked in his room. He’d tested the door once, after Prince Sebastian had left, in the hope he’d find a way to leave and find some peace. He had no such luck, though. The door was barred and would not budge.

Food was brought by servants from the Prince’s traveling party, or worse by Prince Sebastian himself, expecting Erik to amuse him for their meals together. Of Logan, Erik saw no glimpse the entire time. In the beginning, Erik had cursed the Sheriff for this behavior, but he had long since realized that it wasn’t just him who had no choice but to follow the Prince’s whims and wishes. Still, times were plenty when Erik wished for any moment in Logan’s company again.

The night before the festival, Erik had given up any of his hopes of leaving his drafty room in the tower at all while Prince Sebastian was staying in the castle. Supper arrived late that night, so late Erik couldn’t help but wonder if he was being punished by the Prince for displeasing him in some way or other. The knock came when the candle Erik had lit against the darkness had burnt to nothing more than a stump. Erik didn’t react, not thinking neither Prince Sebastian nor his servants would need an invitation. To his surprise, a second knock followed, then a third when he still didn’t respond.

“Come in,” Erik said, wary and unsure what it was all about. He could hear the heavy bolt keeping the door shut being pushed back, wood dragging on wood, as the door opened and the Sheriff stepped in, a bowl of stew and some bread in one hand and a large mug in the other. Outside, on the stairs, Erik could see one of the Prince’s servants, doing his best to hide in the shadows.

Without saying a word, Logan put down the food and drink on the table which was just barely large enough for what two needed for a meal. Then, he went and closed the door, granting them at least some semblance of privacy. “You eat, I talk,” Logan said gruffly. He waited until Erik had sat down and started eating, before he went on. “Our Prince Royal graciously allowed me to use you to fill his purse for him during the festival. He knows the less god fearing love a good gamble and is convinced you’ll be able to pull many a coin from their pouches. I was sent to warn you from losing any money, though. Our Prince would not be pleased in that case and should he find any reason to think you did it on purpose, there will be punishment.” More softly, to prevent being overheard, he added, “Our agreement still stands. Let’s hope it’ll work in drawing out Hood. I just had to think of something to make the Prince allow you out. Do you have all you need?”

Erik shrugged. He knew he wouldn’t be able to ask for anything, not now, not until the Prince was gone again. There was just one thing he wanted, needed, that he could get at this moment. He pointed at the empty chair by the table. Thankfully, Logan understood without any more prompting. He sat down while Erik ate, allowing him to clutch his hand all the while.

After the meal, Erik was alone again.

~*~

Early the next morning, before even the time for breakfast, there was another knock at Erik’s door. This time, he responded quicker than the night before, his beating heart reminding him that it could just as well be Logan. Still, he schooled his expression, careful not to show any emotion to whoever had come for him.

It was Logan, just as he’d hoped, but the Sheriff hadn’t come alone. Two guards Erik didn’t know waited outside while Logan entered, asking Erik if he was ready in a tone otherwise only reserved for the dumbest of men training in the courtyard. Erik nodded, stunned and unable to hide his confusion over the one thing he hadn’t been ready for, over Logan treating him like any prisoner and not someone close to a friend.

Erik was lead down and out to the courtyard then outside the walls of the castle. There, on an open space usually covered in nothing but grass, workers had been setting up booths and tents in the past days, traveling folk joining them more and more the closer the festival had come. Erik couldn’t help but look around in wonder. It had been so long since he’d left the castle and longer still since he’d seen this many people unknown to him. How much would he love just to be able to walk around and see what everyone had to offer, watching performances and maybe even try some of the stranger food. Alas he knew it wasn’t an option, the guards by his side and the memories of the Prince himself serving as ample reminder.

Their destination turned out to be a small tent without any decoration or any sign at all of its purpose. Inside, visible through a large opening facing the vague path the tents and booths framed, there was a table with a flat bowl in the middle of it. Behind the table was a stool, crude and uncomfortably looking. 

Not needing the prompting, Erik went inside. He did his best hiding his resignation, yet knowing he couldn’t hide it from the Sheriff no matter how hard he tried. The guards took their posts on either side of the tent, keeping a watchful eye on Erik as well as being able to watch the crowd later on. Logan followed Erik to the stool, leaning down to whisper in Erik’s ear, “The wood carving salesman in the tent across is one of mine. If you think it’s Hood, just drum your fingers on the left side of the table while you play. He’ll send a boy to fetch me.”

Erik indicated a nod, for all onlookers just counting the smooth pebbles inside the bowl. It turned out one more than he needed, so he dropped the extra one into his sleeve.

“I’ll come by sometime later, promise,” Logan murmured, before straightening up again and walking away.

Left to his own devices and no customer yet in sight, Erik took his time to look around. Beside the table and stool, there was only a small casket by the side of the stool. A quick look inside revealed a meager assortment of coins, barely enough to match small bets. There was not much choice for Erik it looked like, either he’d win any and all times people played him in the hopes of quick coin gain or he’d soon be back in the tower, bored and useless, waiting to be punished for his impertinence.

~*~

“You’re cheating!” the peasant at the other side of the table screamed at Erik. 

Erik did his best not to roll his eyes. It had taken the man three losses and not a small sum to come to that conclusion. He wasn’t the first, either, much to the displeasure of Erik’s guards. Erik did his best to remain calm as he answered: “I followed the rules of the game the entire time. Did you ever see me take more than three stones? Or none?”

The man huffed, raising a fist, yet unsure if he wanted to use that fist or not. For a moment, Erik feared he would, as did the guards eying the man with caution. But somebody from the crowd of onlookers they had drawn suddenly stepped to the man’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Leave it be,” he told the angry man. “He didn’t cheat.” The calm authority in the voice of the young man having stepped forward was enough to make the peasant lower his fist and slink off, though he still looked angry about his losses.

“Thank you,” Erik said, gesturing the young man to try his luck.

The young man hesitated a moment but then shrugged. “I’m still thinking this game is rigged in your favor,” he said. Yet, he still pulled a coin from his purse and put it down on the table as his bet. “Let’s see if my theory about it is right.” He looked Erik in the eye and smiled. “How about this: we call it a tie if by the end of this, I can tell how you won?”

Furrowing his brow, Erik nodded. Something about the young man’s smile, his arrogance, the way he talked stirred something in his memory. Still, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He needed a little more time. So he nodded.

“I gather you heard the rules?” Erik asked. 

The young man smiled, brushing his hazel hair out of his eyes. “Let’s pretend I haven’t.”

“Ok fine,” Erik sighed. “In turns, we pick one to three stones from the pile. The one taking the last stone loses. It’s that simple, I’ll even let you beginn.”

The young man nodded. “Very well then.” He took a single stone from the pile.

Erik took three.

The young man took two, so Erik took two as well. 

The young man blinked, for a moment he looked almost confused. He took his time with deciding how many stones he would take, studying Erik’s face all the while. 

“Is something wrong?” Erik asked, idly drumming the fingers of his left hand against the side of the table.

The young man shook his head. “Nothing, really,” he sighed. “Just a trick of my memory, I’m afraid. I thought I’d taught this game to a friend a long long time ago.”

“Did you now?” Erik asked. “When was that? Two or three winters ago?”

“Did you just call me a child?” the young man laughed, the cadence of it plucking at the strings of Erik’s memory. “It was more like ten summers or longer.”

Erik made a noncommittal sound, too preoccupied with finding out who it was the young man reminded him of.

For a few moments, they played on. Suddenly, the young man shook his head. “It’s no use, I lost from the start,” he sighed.

“How so?” Erik asked.

“Because, you see, if you’d divide this pile in four equal parts then you’d have one stone left. That’s how you win,” the young man explained. “But I think I guessed the bigger riddle here as well. You’re Erik.”

“How…” Erik exhaled softly. “Charles?”

“So you do remember,” Charles beamed. “I almost thought you’d forgotten me.”

Erik’s head was spinning. He longed to leap up and tell Charles to run as the Sheriff was coming for him and Erik himself was at fault. Or better yet pull Charles in his arms and swear he’d never forgotten him, his only and best childhood friend. Neither action would be taken kindly to by the guards, though. The years in the Prince’s hard hands had taught him to stay put, to not act on desires that could lead to harm for himself or those he loved. So Erik just hung his head and whispered, “Never. I could never forget you, Charles. I missed you.”

“How have you be-” Charles turned mid-word, alarmed by the sudden racket in the crowd outside the tent. Subtly, the guards had already moved closer, closing off any exits Charles might have found. Erik bit his lip, trying to look anywhere but at Logan when he’d finally pushed his way through the crowd nor at Charles whom he had betrayed like this. Instead, he hung his head, hoping this meant his excursion was over. He wouldn’t mind being locked up again where he couldn’t betray his friends.

“Hood,” he heard Logan say. The Sheriff sounded almost surprised. The table shook gently, making the stones left in the bowl rattle. “Finally!” Logan added. His voice was a little strained, like he was exerting physical force. Gasps could be heard from the crowd. Another tremor went through the table, some of the stones on Erik’s collected pile rolled off. “Take him to the dungeon, I’ll be right by!” the Sheriff ordered. The guards started shouting at the crowd, forcing their way through in a manner that made quite a few onlookers protest.

Erik didn’t look up, not even when he heard Logan step around the table. He didn’t look either when from the corner of his eye he saw Logan crouch down and pick up the fallen stones. The only sign he gave of being aware of Logan was the lack of resistance when the Sheriff put the smooth pebbles into Erik’s hand and closed it around them.

“I know him,” Erik whispered, his voice toneless and hollow even to his own ears. “We’re friends. I know him.” He shook his head. “I just wanna go back now. Please.”

Logan squeezed his hand, once and briefly. Without a word, he picked up the casket by the table leg. When he left the tent, Erik followed him, still not saying a word, nor raising his head.

Only when they’d reached his room in the tower did Erik speak again. Behind the thick walls, he felt somewhat safe, safe enough at least to vent his feelings. “He’s my friend, Logan,” he yelled all of a sudden, slamming the door behind himself shut. “How can you just…! He’s my friend! And I… I betrayed him for you!” He clenched his hands to fists. He wanted to hit Logan, for no other reason than to feel better. He also wanted Logan to hit him back, if only so his body was hurting as well. “Is this my life now? Everything about me, my friends, my life, will be locked up in this damned castle, with you as Sebastian’s willing dungeon master, until I finally can die? Is that what’s going to happen?”

Erik raised his fist, taking a helpless, stumbling swing at Logan. Logan didn’t move, he just took the punch in the chest, watching Erik with a stoic expression. Erik punched again, and again, and again, his fist drumming a broken rhythm on Logan’s chest. Once, he slipped, his hand not connecting, then again, until he was leaning against Logan, his entire body shaking. Drops painted the floor between their feet dark, like inverted stars on the nightly sky.

“I missed him so much, Logan,” Erik sobbed. His knees felt weak. “I missed him more than anything, almost more than my family. And now he’s in the dungeon, waiting for you and it’s all my fault.”

Gently, by a hand barely touching Erik’s shoulder, Logan guided Erik to sit down. “Are you done?” he asked, his voice soft. Even he sounded a little sad.

Erik nodded. There was no energy left in him to rage on, at least not for now.

“If it helps, the guards sent for me before you did,” Logan said. “One of my men recognized him before, we just waited for the right moment.” He sighed. “I wish he weren’t your friend.”

“But you’re not sorry?” Erik laughed, his voice as hollow as his chest felt.

Logan shook his head. “I’m sorry he’s your friend. I’m…” Again, a shaking of his head. “All I can do now is promise I won’t treat him differently just because he’s your friend.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Erik wondered if there was a way to feel less tired about his whole situation, to find the energy to be angry at Logan again. He wanted to, at least.

Logan leaned against the wall next to Erik, his arms crossed. “Not even His Royal Highness has ever gotten such a reaction out of you,” Logan rumbled, anger coloring his voice. “Do you really think I care so little about you that I’m not mad at him for being a notorious thief and criminal instead of a friend you actually deserve? I would never put on soft gloves for someone who makes you hurt like this. Not when it’s within my own decision.”

For a long moment, Logan waited for an answer from Erik. Through the window openings the sounds of people enjoying themselves at the festivities wafted in, a gentle reminder of the world existing outside the castle walls. It seemed farther out of Erik’s reach than it had ever been.

Logan pushed off the wall, apparently having waited enough. “I gotta go now,” he declared. “Be back for supper. Don’t do anything desperate until then!”

Erik didn’t answer him then either, just patiently waited for Logan to leave. He didn’t miss that once the door was closed, the sound of the bolt being shut failed to make itself heard. At this moment though, Erik couldn’t care less about the unlocked door.

~*~

Supper came and passed, as did Logan come and then leave again, visibly unhappy about the uneaten food on Erik’s plate. Erik did his best not to think too hard about what was probably happening to Charles in the dungeon, about whatever methods Logan had used in questioning while he was gone. He didn’t ask, either. When Logan asked him about Charles, he refused to answer, fearing that with stories of their childhood, his silly hopes of rescue and reunion would spill as well.

To Erik’s luck, the only he had that day, Prince Shaw didn’t show up in his room, not before Logan came with dinner, nor after, when Erik lay in bed, fully clothed and his mind restless while his body felt tired to the bone. At first, he tried to find rest, flee the grim reality to the land of dreams. The thoughts spinning around in his mind wouldn’t let him. Too much he wanted to say to Charles, too much he wanted to ask, so little ways to make talks possible. For hours, it felt like, Erik stared out the window, wondering. Eventually, gentle moonlight fell into the room, drawing harsh shadows in contrast. Quietly, Erik stood up.

The door to his room was still unlocked. If Logan had forgotten out of habit or left it on purpose, Erik did neither know nor care for. Quickly but precise, he opened the door just enough for him to slip through, stopping it before he knew its angles would creak. Out on the short passage leading to the stairs, he closed the door again, this time bolting it shut. Should anyone come to check on him, they might just leave when they saw the bolt in place, he figured.

The way to the dungeons was a familiar one, mainly because as Sheriff and Head of the Watch Logan had his rooms close. It helped that he knew the way well. Despite the late hour, he had to stop more than once to hide the sound of his step and once even let a pair of guards, tired and on their way to bed, pass by. Every time, Erik thought they must hear his heart beating loud and fast as if it wanted to escape his chest. Still, he reached the heavy, iron mounted door down to the dungeon without being seen.

From below, he could hear the echo of voices. For a moment, he stopped, weighing the risks of pushing on against turning around. It wasn’t worth going back, not when he’d come this far. Even more careful than before, Erik sneaked on, down the brick stairs into the sparsely lit dungeon corridor.

All of a sudden, loud and unexpected enough to make Erik jump, a yell echoed through the dungeon. Erik recognized Logan’s voice. “You insolent-” A slap followed, a crashing sound after, like a body being slammed into a wall. Then a groan that might have been Charles, choked off at the end. Erik hurried his step.

The last cell down the corridor was the only one lit inside as well. From the inside came laboured breathing, interrupted by occasional grunts. It sounded like it was only the two of them, but Erik wasn’t sure enough not to be careful. If the Prince or one of his men found him out of his room, Erik knew he wouldn’t leave it for the rest of the year. Or worse, Prince Sebastian might even put him under permanent and personal supervision. A gentle push against the cell door revealed it was unlocked and unbarred, a relief to Erik because it meant less noise as he pushed it open wide enough to glance inside.

“That’s not a very honorable thing of you to do, Sheriff,” Charles was just saying when Erik peered in. He was leaning against the wall furthest from the door, most of his body shielded from Erik’s view by the way Logan was looming over him, his body language screaming of aggression and something almost territorial.

“Just shut it, Hood.” The words vibrated low in Logan’s chest. It was a sound Erik could remember well, but not one he expected to hear outside the Sheriff’s room. Contrary to Erik’s memory, the tone now lacked any playfulness, though.

Erik pushed the door open further, probably to step in, no matter how unsure he still felt. He wouldn’t just stand by and watch Logan hurt Charles. He must have made a noise, though, or moved too quickly, because all of a sudden Charles’ eyes flew up and he was staring at Erik, mouth hanging slightly open. He mouthed something that might have been Erik’s name or just a noise of surprise. It only took a moment until Logan noticed the expression as well, until he turned around, clearly ready to fight whoever was disturbing them. He froze when he realized it was Erik.

“You didn’t lock any doors tonight, did you?” Erik tried to make light of his presence.

Logan cursed, pushing off the wall and dragging Erik fully inside the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. “Are you crazy? What are you doing down here?! What if anyone would have seen you?!” he yelled at Erik, clearly to let righteous indignation wash away the first scare over Erik's presence.

“You left my door open!” Erik snapped back. “And I was careful, waited until the dead of night and dodged anyone. It’s not like I don’t know how to get down here without being seen, your room’s almost right next to it, you moron!”

“That doesn’t make it any less stupid!” Logan growled. “Or less reckless!”

Erik’s glance flickered past Logan to Charles, who was still fighting his surprise. “I wanted to talk to Charles,” Erik said. It sounded a lot more stubborn than he’d intended.

For some reason, it was the absolutely wrong thing to say. Logan’s expression darkened. For a moment, Erik was afraid Logan would snatch him and drag him back to his room, the ruckus it would cause be damned. But then, Logan just sneered and stepped aside, gesturing for Erik to go over to Charles. “Just so you know, I’m not leaving.”

Erik nodded at him, thankful. His heart pounding, he stepped around Logan up to Charles, opening his arms in greeting, unsure yet how Charles would react. For a moment, Charles was just looking between Logan and Erik, before he stepped away from the wall and grasped Erik’s arm in greeting, letting himself be drawn into a hug when Erik pulled. His hands were warm but so much coarser than Erik remembered them from their youth. It wasn’t just calluses from sword training either. But hugging him felt just as much of home as it always had. Erik closed his eyes for a moment. “I’d never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered. “I thought of you almost every day.”

Charles pulled away slightly, smiling a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” he laughed. It was charming, filling Erik’s chest with a warm, almost golden, feeling. “Usually these days, I’m much smarter and get caught less often. I should just have walked in here and gotten you with some friends, instead of trying to talk to you first.”

Erik’s eyes widened. “You knew…” His voice faltered. “You planned to come for  _ me _ ?”

Charles shrugged, going for casual. “It was just a silly boy’s daydream,” he admitted. “But rescuing a friend who’s being held against his will? Who wouldn’t at least try?” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t find a way in. Your friend runs a very tight watch here.”

“As I damn well should,” Logan grumbled. “Don’t try making me the bad guy here, thief. Riffraff like you has no business being in this castle.”

Charles glowered a little. “You’re the enemy of everything that’s true, good and romantic.” He took Erik’s hands in his and looked him in the eyes. His glance made Erik's heart beat faster. “I promise I’ll get out of here and when I do, you’re coming with me. You just have to say you will.”

Erik’s first impulse was to say he would, whenever, go wherever if Charles would take him with him, away from this castle and Prince Sebastian’s grasp. But… He hesitated, the bright gleam of hope in his eyes dimming. He turned to look at Logan.

Logan gave a helpless shrug. “He might not be wrong,” the Sheriff admitted.

Erik pressed his lips together, unsure about the prospect of flight for the first time. “What about you?” he asked.

Logan shrugged again, this time like he actually didn’t care. “What what about me? I’m staying,” he said. “My place is here. As the Sheriff. I’m not leaving that post to any of the Prince’s chums.”

“Not even for me?” Erik joked though he didn’t felt like laughing. 

Logan actually pulled a face at that. “Listen, I care. A lot. But… It’s not just you and me here… I told you before. I can’t.” He shook his head, hanging it a little even. “Was that your plan?” Logan suddenly glared at Charles. “Giving Erik hope so he could plead me into helping both of you escape?”

“Is it working, though?” Charles asked, just at the same time as Erik. They looked at each other, the memory of scenes just like this one from their childhood bright in their minds. They smiled. Erik, driven by the sudden reminder of intimacy, touched Charles’ hand, his own palm shaking and sweaty. Charles’ smile brightened even further.

Logan groaned. “You’re both horrible, horrible people that will cost me my head or neck.”

“So you’ll help?” Erik felt a bit dizzy. After so long, for the first time, he could see an actual prospect of freedom on the horizon.

“It’s not like I could just drag you back to the tower and lock you up there,” Logan grimaced. “Letting fucking Charles Hood run off with you might be the lesser evil.”

Erik withdrew his hand from Charles’ hand to go back over to Logan. “I…” he started but then faltered. “Thank you, Logan.”

Logan just shook his head and held an arm open for Erik to let himself be hugged. “Just promise me I’ll see you again,” he rumbled. “Both of you. And not at the gallows.” He squeezed Erik’s shoulder hard. “Take good care of him, Hood.”

Erik could hear Charles swallow, faintly, over the sound of Logan’s breathing and the steady drum of his heart. “I will. I promise,” Charles said loud and clear, his voice steady with conviction.

Logan pushed Erik back to arm’s length, keeping his hands on Erik’s shoulders. He looked him straight into the eye for a moment, just so long that Erik just barely didn’t feel uncomfortable because of it. “And you don’t let him teach you his thieving ways, you hear me?”

Erik nodded, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “I’ll do my best staying honest as I am.”

“Good enough,” Logan harrumphed. With visible difficulty, he tore himself away. “So, Erik, you remember the wine cellar? In the Eastern most corner there’s a big barrel. It’s empty. Behind it, you’ll find a tunnel leading you down the hill. I’m sure you’ll find a way from there.”

“We will,” Charles confirmed. He took Erik’s hand and tugged a little. “We should leave as soon as possible. Do you need anything?”

Erik shook his head. There were no possessions of his own anyway. Only… “Just one moment,” he murmured, slipping his hand free. He blinked a couple of times when he was looking at Logan, trying to convince himself this wasn’t goodbye for good. He slung his arms around Logan’s neck. Their lips met just briefly before Erik let go again. “Don’t take too long finding us in the woods.”

Logan growled, a primal sound coming from deep within his chest. “Just get out of here before I think better of it. And lock the door behind you I wanna be able to say I was forced!”

Erik left it to Charles to close the door and slide the heavy bolt home to bar it. He tried to leave his life at the castle behind. All of it. Now, Erik thought as he hurried through the castle to the wine cellar, hand in hand with Charles, there was freedom awaiting the two of them. Together. 


End file.
